Missing Scene Partners
by milford
Summary: Missing scene from Partners from Hutch's POV.


Missing Scene – Partners 

By Milford

I don't own Starsky and Hutch unfortunately, and no profit is being made. The story is for entertainment purposes only.

I started shouting at Starsky, anything to avoid seeing the lost, confused expression on his face, preferring even the anger I knew would come. I was very aware I'd made a terrible mistake by faking amnesia, and I regretted it deeply. When Starsky started to reminisce over painful memories in an attempt to help me, my regret increased considerably, as did my guilt. I tried to maintain my charade, even asked him questions I knew the answers to, but it proved impossible. When he started talking about Terry, a subject he usually kept locked in his heart, it finished me. I had to bail out and admit to himthat I'd never lost my memory. The sight of his face--the deep hurt and confusion--was making me even angrier, and I seemed to lose complete control. Why couldn't he see why I'd done what I had? Didn't he know how much I loved him? Wanted to keep him safe from everything, including his own manic driving? God knows he'd never listened to my pleas to be careful, and I'd hoped that if he had cause to worry about me, it might make him think twice next time. I hadn't counted on him insisting on telling me tales about our past and going over very painful territory. The whole thing blew up in my face.

The truth is, when I'd first woken, I'dbeen confused and unsure of what had happened. When I'd come to realize Starsky wasn't there, I became terrified. Terrified that my worst nightmare had come true--Starsky was gone. However hard I try, I'll never be able to explain how I felt then. The horror had been only momentary, but it didn't make it less devastating. Starsky, my volatile, stubborn, pig-headed friend, means so much to me it's frightening at times. Particularly in our line of work, which is so very dangerous. We also seemto attract every known nut in LA, and they seem determined to destroy us. Maybe it isn't wise to care so much, but I wouldn't trade what we have for anything. My best friend--the other half of the me and thee partnership--taught me all I knowabout true friendship and unconditional love. However, as much as I love him, he angers me more than anyone I've ever met, especially when he takes crazy chances in his ridiculous car. At times, he reminds me of an overgrown schoolboy and it's aggravating to say the least. We'vesurvived all types of attempts on our lives by crazed psychos, it would be too ironic--not to mention tragic--if he killed himself in his car. I couldn't bear the thought, although obviously it'ssomething I might have to face one day. One of us would have to face the loss, unless we went out together. It was something I preferred not to think about.

I didn't consciously make the decision to fake amnesia; I was just so angry and confused. I guess I was dazed and slow to respond to questions, too, my mind trying to accept what was so horrific to me. When another nurse entered the room and mentioned my partner was screaming for meand I understood he was okay, I felt my rage growing. I decided I had to try to make a point. So when I was questioned, I set off on my disastrous road.

I'll never forget his face when he thought I didn't recognize him. I nearly came unglued then, until I recalled my complete terror of thinking I'd lost him. I gained strength from that, and my resolve held. It was hard, especially since I couldn't even ask about his injuries. He was up and walking, which was good; he was a little pale and tense, and had a cut over his eye. I could only glance at him surreptitiously, because I didn't want to raise his suspicions. He looked okay, in fact, all things considered, not too bad at all. I did wonder why he was being kept in the hospitalovernight, but, of course, I couldn't ask. It suited me anyway. How could I make my point if he wasn't there?

I pushed my momentary concern to the back of my mind and lay back on the bed, closing my eyes. I was totally unprepared for Starsky's next step. He was obviously going to try to force me to remember as he started going over old cases. I tried to discourage him, was even surly in my response, but I should've known better. Starsky was the most stubborn person around, particularly when it came to looking out for my welfare. He obviously decided he was going to force me to remember, even if it meant covering old, and painful, territory.

It was hard justlistening and not correcting him when I didn't agree with what he said. Some of the memories were humorous;we'd had some interesting cases with colorful characters. I was very uneasy lying there, hearing the story of our lives and being reminded of how much we meant to each other. As if I needed reminding. My head was genuinely aching by that time, and when Dobey and Huggy came to visit, my nerves were frayed badly. I took refuge in bad temper and making jokes at their expense. I knew I'd taken it too far, even as the words poured out of my mouth, but it silenced Starsky. I wasn't watching his face, but I could feel his tension and surprise. I'd gone so far now; I just kept going, trying not to see the hurt on my friends' faces.

Somehow we arrived at the subject of hitting each other. I'm not really sure how it started. He was complaining how I'd nearly killed him when I was last driving, and then the subject arose about hitting. Huggy, I think, brought it up. My head was really throbbing by this time. Starsky spoke of the time he'd hit me to make it look like he was a vigilante cop. A slight reprieve from the tension occurred when a "Dr. Bear" was paged and Huggy left. Dobey was probably tired of my ill temper and cruel remarks, because he disappeared into the bathroom and I never noticed him leave. Automatically, without thought, I asked Starsky if I'd ever hit him. I had to swallow at the response and the uncomfortable memory it brought back. Gillian. My beautiful, beloved girlfriend, who'd had an unfortunate secret. I'dgone crazy with grief, as I saw her body on the ground and realized she was dead. I did go crazy. What else could explain my hitting Starsky, punching him? I'd had so much grief and anger inside me, and my best friend was telling me the girl I loved had been a hooker. I grimaced at the memory and, again, took refuge in bad temper. It was easier than dealing with these painful memories.

I watched Starsky lying on his bed. He was looking very tired and defeated, and my heart ached. I wanted a break, for us both to go to sleep, so that I could wake up in the morning with my memory miraculously returned. Yet, somehow I felt the need to say something, anything, despite him telling me to go to sleep. So the conversation continued, and he went on to explain how I'd been there plenty of times for him, which brought us to the hardest part of all--Terry. He'd loved her so much and she'd fit in so well with our tight-knit little world. I'd experienced the grief of losing a loved friend, but Starsky had suffered the grief of losing a beloved partner, one he wanted to marry. I'd been very worried about him during those dark days before and after the funeral. Funerals were bad enough anyway, but to attend a funeral of a young and beautiful woman was devastating. Somehow Starsky survived. I'd always known he was strong, but hadn't seen the full measure of his strength until then. He told me later how I'd helped him, kept him going, and he was saying the same things now.

It was breaking my heart and I knew I couldn't continue like this, dredging up sad memories. What was the point of continuing this, punishing him, when he didn't realize he was being punished? Talking about Terry wasn't easy for him. I glanced at him quickly, noting how pale and tired he looked. Hardly surprising. "Well done, Hutchinson," I thought to myself. I remembered Terry's note to me "To you I entrust Ollie and Dave. Please love them both;

don't let either one of them change..." I did love him, and Terry wouldn't thank me for doing this to him, so now I had to face the music.

My partner was never predictable, but I knew he'd be angry and he was. The initialjoy in his eyes was unmistakable, as was the relief, but I could see the anger start to build as he understood what had been happening. The next minute, my own anger was boiling over, and we were suddenly having a shouting match in the hospital. I started shouting at him for being an irresponsible driver and telling him he was going to kill us both one of these days. He was shouting back, demanding to know how I could do such a terrible thing. Why couldn't he see? I continued shouting, not even aware Starsky had stopped. Just as well, or I'm sure we would've had security pulling us apart. I hadn't been watching him but at the sudden silence, I looked up. The sight of him sitting on the bed, holding his head in his hands, made me forget about the anger. I moved toward him as quickly as I could and put my hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to look at me.

"Starsk? Starsk, what is it, babe? I'm sorry..." I was sorry, more sorry than I'd ever been.

He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "I was just scared, Hutch...I thought I'd hurt you permanently..."

"Aw, Starsk..." I sat on the bed next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. He leaned on me and we sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I wanted you to be scared, Starsk, and now I hate myself. I'm sorry, babe, really sorry. When I woke up alone and you weren't there..." I swallowed a lump in my throat, "Well, I thought you were gone... Then I heard you weren't and I wanted to teach you a lesson. I figured if you were worried about me, then you'd think twice before taking such stupid chances driving again."

Starsky sighed, "You're right, blintz. Don't wanna go through this again. Gotta lie down for a minute." I was startled as he pulled away and lay on the bed. He really did look terribly tired.

"You okay, want me to get the doctor?" As I observed the tired lines around his mouth and the bleariness in the usually bright blue eyes, I reached over for the buzzer, but my hand was caught before I could push the button.

"Nah, I'm okay. Just kinda tired..." I watched him close his eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks. I was still struggling to decide whether or not I should get a doctor to come in, when his voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Of course, we're gonna have to decide how to handle Dobey and Huggy. You weren't very nice to them..." I was pleased to see a familiar glint of mischief in his tired eyes, and I groaned out loud. I knew I had a lot to make up for, and I hoped they'd understand what happened. Then I realized what Starsky had said--"we're gonna have to decide." He sure could annoy me more than anyone else I'd ever met, but there was no one else I'd want as a partner. As usual, he mirrored my thoughts with his next statement.

"Guess we deserve each other, blintz." With a soft chuckle he closed his eyes and I watched him fall asleep, truly thankful to have such a friend.


End file.
